by Lee M Eason
Carrick, Gwen and Kara sat in the open top carriage surrounded by twenty mounted soldiers in full dress uniform. They’d progressed through the city taking in some of its most impressive sights.
Carrick exhaled heavily, wiping his forehead. “Phew, the heat. It’s like being in an oven.”
“I’m roasting,” Kara grinned. “It’s lovely.”
“It’s the dry heat, so different to Naddier.” Gwen noted. “I suppose they’re used to it. Look, those children running. I’d melt if I walked too quickly.” She smiled as the children ran alongside the carriage waving and shouting. “Aaron and Jenna would have enjoyed this. It’s such a contrast to home, the sights, the smells, the sounds and the people.”
“Yes,” Kara said, “but not worth the risk considering the trouble you had getting them to Naddier.”
“You’re right, they’re safer there,” Carrick agreed. “Things are too unsettled and the more they learn the better.”
“Studies,” Kara groaned.
Gwen laughed. “It’s been a long time since we had to do all of that. And here we are the teachers not the pupils. When did that happen?”
Kara stood up trying to look ahead. “Speaking of time. How much longer is this tour going to last?”
“The longer the better,” Carrick said. “It’s nice to be out at this time of the year, even if it is hot.”
“I’m quite excited about this. It’s a historical moment really,” Gwen noted checking her clothing especially bought for the visit.
“This dress,” Kara grumbled flopping back down in her seat, “It’s too long. I like to feel the wind on my legs.” Kara pulled at the loose fitting dress and its thin beautifully patterned material.
“You look stunning,” Gwen complimented.
“Well you’re both togged up. I thought I’d better too.”
Carrick smiled. “Durnin’s devious hints seem to have prompted them into something much bigger. We’ve never had an escort or been met by court officials no matter where we’ve been.”
“I noticed none of them came down to meet us though,” Kara noted. “No Chancellor, no Ballan, not even Mia Sara.”
“Come on now,” Gwen scoffed. “You expect her to come and greet us.”
“It would give her more time to admire the view from the top of that perfectly powdered nose of hers,” Kara mimicked.
“They’ve been so hung up on political wrangling and one-up-man-ship for so long, what can you expect?” Carrick was still watching the ever-changing display of life in the city. Colourfully dressed, brown skinned, dark eyed heads turned as they passed, equally interested in the strangers that were still a novelty to the city.
“Do you think they’ll be stood on boxes so we have to look up at them,” Gwen asked dryly.
“Don’t be silly,” Kara corrected. “It’ll be stilts.”
The carriages began to wind their way up the hill to the Amar Order’s buildings offering glimpses of spectacular views across the city as they climbed the tree lined road. Finally, their honour guard passed through an imposing gateway and clattered into a vast open courtyard. In its centre stood a fully grown fieldtree. The great dome of its branches spread to make full use of the ambient field. Carrick wondered how they managed to keep it alive. It was rare now to find specimens anywhere away from the strongest remaining field lines. One this big would need a lot of energy. Its burnished leaves showed no signs of distress and would look magnificent at night when they radiated field energy. The carriage crossed the courtyard, passing the tree and approached the main entrance. The Chancellor, Ballan and Mia Sara were stood waiting to greet them.
“You’re both wrong,” Carrick whispered. “They’re on steps!”
***
Bryn was startled as Jac scrambled to his feet, leapt over the boulder and drew his sword.
“Jac!” he grasped at thin air in a vain attempt to yank him back to cover.
Unable to pinpoint their attackers Kellim directed the field, shattering several random boulders in an attempt to create a distraction. Swearing under his breath Bryn heaved his tall frame from cover and raced into the narrow canyon. Using the break in arrows Kellim risked a look over the rock. Jac had engaged a small group. Bryn was bearing down on others. The men were hastily dropping bows to draw swords. Kellim hit out three times disabling a third group and sending an archer reeling before he could fire.
The last of the men down, Jac turned to meet two more scrambling over the icy rocks to get at him. He drew his knife and with both blades charged. The two men faltered, taken aback by the move. The nearest tumbled forward as the knife hit him. Jac leapt and blocked the second’s sword. Using his own momentum, he followed through with his fist and hit him hard in the face. The man stumbled back, hit the ground hard and lost his grip. Jac sent the sword spinning off to the side. Fixing his footing he made to finish the job but Bryn’s sharp call registered. The sword missed the man’s throat by a whisker.
“Alive!” Bryn was shouting as he ran over. “We need one alive!”
The man glanced at the knife lying inches away. Jac considered letting him grab it but Bryn arrived and brought his foot down on the man’s arm.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed,” Bryn asked heatedly, removing his foot and kicking the blade aside.
“It worked didn’t it!” Jac snapped his sword tip still at the man’s throat. “What did you want to do? Sit behind the rock all afternoon?”
“That was fool hardy and you know it!” Bryn said angrily and sheaved his sword with a snap.
Kellim came over, having checked the men he’d brought down. “The other three will not bother us,” he looked at Jac and Bryn. “Let’s see what this one has to say,” he deliberately stepped between them.
“We’ll talk about this later,” Bryn said ominously, glowering at Jac before stepping back to allow Kellim through.
Jac stared back stubbornly, his breath steaming in the cold air.
“If you would be so good as to remove your blade,” Kellim asked patiently. “He’s not going anywhere.” Jac looked at him and then lowered it. His mood had taken a darker turn since they returned to Naddier. Kellim put it down to too much time to think and considered diffusing the situation, both pots were clearly torrid, perhaps now would be a good time to allow them to boil over.
Jac sheathed his sword and stalked off to where their packs had been left.
The pot boiled over. “I’ve had enough of this,” Bryn growled and went after him.
Kellim mused briefly over transporting their swords before turning back to the man who lay fixed to the frosted ground.
Bryn caught up with Jac. “Just what is it you’re trying to prove!” he demanded.
Jac continued to check their packs his back turned. “Nothing,” he replied, roughly lashing two together.
“Then is it us, or just yourself you’re trying to get killed!”
Jac froze his knuckles white on the straps.
“Well!” Bryn demanded.
“Just forget it,” he said irritably.
“Forge…” Bryn’s anger boiled over. “Damn it!” he shouted. “That had to be one of the stupidest things you’ve done. And you’ve done some bloody stupid things!”
“I didn’t ask you to follow!” Jac shouted turning sharply to face Bryn.
“Wha…!” Bryn was incredulous. “I was supposed to sit there, while you…while you…” he struggled to calm himself. “You could have got us all killed! But Jac has to be the bloody hero!” he took a step forward bearing down on Jac. “I could be pulling arrows out of your…”
Jac moved forward. “I don’t give a damn if I get killed!” he bawled in Bryn’s face. “Don’t you get it I should be dead!” Jac stabbed at his chest.
The expression on Jac’s face took Bryn aback. He looked desperate. His eyes were wild, filled with anger and guilt. Neither spoke. Bryn stepped back easing the tension.
Jac was breathing heavily trying to get a grip on his emotio
ns. “It should have been me; I should be the one dead. Stran should be here now,” he ranted. “It was my fault! If I’d gone last it would have been me. That’s why I have to be the first! Now and every time!”
Bryn stood open mouthed. “I…” words failed him. He knew Jac was struggling, but all this? How could he have missed all this? Looking now it was clear. He could read it in the man’s eyes, the guilt burning there. Eating at him from the inside. “W…why didn’t you say. We could have talked.” Bryn gestured helplessly. “Damn it I could have helped. You’re the closest thing I’ve got to a brother Jac. One death is enough. Did it ever occur to you how your death would affect us?”
Jac stood and eventually his shoulders slumped, his anger spent. He sniffed, shaking his head slowly and dragged his hand across his eyes.
“How could a rock fall be your fault? You all took a place as you climbed. So you could just as easily say it was Kellim or Lewen’s fault as well. Or-or, mine for not being there. For going with Carrick and Gwen.” He put a hand on Jac’s shoulder as if in some way it would help the words to sink in. “But in reality it was no one’s fault. Not Kellim’s, not Lewen’s, not mine.” He tried to catch Jac’s eye. “And not yours.” Jac nodded dumbly. “It was a terrible thing but it wasn’t your fault.”
There was a long silence. “I miss him,” Jac’s voice choked when he finally spoke. He looked up. “I miss him so much. I can’t let it go. I feel pathetic even talking about it.” He rubbed at his forehead. “It’s eating me up.”
Bryn instinctively hugged him. “I know, I know,” he held his friend until he could feel the tension in him begin to ease. “What would you say to me? Don’t hide feelings. They aren’t a weakness.” He let go of Jac so he could look at him. “Listen to your own good advice. You can get through this but without the risks. Don’t shut us out. You don’t have to sort this on your own. Talk to us,” he said searching Jac’s eyes.
Jac nodded again. “Yes,” Jac agreed his voice quiet.”
“And you’ll talk?”
Jac nodded.
“And no more risks?” Bryn waited. “Jac,” he prompted.
“No more risks,” Jac mumbled at last.
“Good. We’ll talk properly when we get to… Well, when we get to wherever we’re going,” he sighed heavily looking about them. “Come on,” he stirred Jac into action. It was time to move, not dwell. “Let’s get our stuff and go see what Kellim’s managed to find out.”
The Panid’s shout startled them both. Bryn pointed a finger in Jac’s face meeting his eyes. “No more risks,” he warned hurriedly. A split second later they were both running, swords drawn, Bryn leading.
***
Jenna waved as she spotted Aaron sat on one of the green’s benches partly sheltered by the fat trunk of a gnarlwood. The trees had been bare for some time. Winter was well underway. He was wrapped up against the chill and his breath steamed in lazy clouds.
“Morning,” she called as she got closer. “You’re up early.”
“Lessons,” he made a face. “What about you?”
“Thought I’d get up for the sunrise. This is a good spot to watch it from,” she stopped to look about, getting her bearings. “It’s supposed to be spectacular this time of the year.”
Aaron patted the seat for his sister to join him. “You always did like sunrises. I remember you getting up early when we were younger.”
“Such a peaceful time,” she snuggled in close to him, “and the whole day ahead to look forward to.” She stopped her efforts and suddenly delved into the bag she’d been carrying. “I almost forgot,” she said cryptically pulling out a parcel and handing it to her brother. “Present,” she said dropping it in his lap. He picked it up with a puzzled look. “Go on open it,” she urged.
Aaron battled with the paper. “Have you been fiddling with the formfields of this or something?” He gave up on the knot and managed to slip the string off, releasing the paper. “Where did you find a copy of this,” he smiled looking at the familiar cover. That drawing held such mystery for me. It’s supposed to be one of The Panids’ Children.” He pecked her on the cheek by way of thanks.
“Funny, once I started looking, that picture popped up all over,” Jenna looked at the distant cloudbank as her brother flicked through the pages. “Lewen thinks we might be in for a bit of snow. He says it’s colder than normal.”
“Tell me about it,” Aaron shuddered barely looking up from the book. “I’ve never been anywhere this cold. But it’d be good to see snow.”
“It would seem so strange. Everywhere white,” Jenna tucked her hands in her pockets. “Been here long?”
“Nope,” Aaron shrugged, “lessons went on a bit longer than usual.”
“I’m glad to be back here. It’s so much noisier over at the other buildings.” Her stomach gurgled.
“You had breakfast yet?” Aaron asked as the noise came again.
“No. Any idea what it is?”
“I could smell bread as I passed the kitchens. But that was a while ago.”
“Mm, fresh bread. We can go and have a look in a bit, if you like.”
Aaron nodded. “Has there been any news from Bryn?”
“No. Ursa said they’re too far away and even Kellim can’t send that far. I suppose no news is good news. Though it’s been ages.”
“Yeah, about a month,” Aaron did a quick mental calculation. “If it’s cold here it must be freezing up in Lont. They’ll probably have snow already.”
“Gwen and Carrick will still have hot weather,” Jenna said.
They both sat thinking about the others as the sky lifted to misty oranges and pale blues, marking the start of another day.
***
The airy, ornate room echoed loudly with the conversations and occasional laughter of the milling delegates. Light streamed in through elegant arches that punctuated the length of the long room and silk curtains billowed in a warm breeze that carried the distant sounds of the city. The dry heat of the day was building.
The combined talent and experience in the room was considerable and with it came an equally impressive amount of posturing, speculation and gossip. Most of the Orders were represented, though Kara suspected curiosity had a lot to do with it. The Amar Order hadn’t opened its doors since the war. She was looking for a representative from Ciad, not really expecting to see one, but hoping this might have been enough to tempt them out of their own self-imposed exile. No doors in that wall yet then, she said to herself giving up the search and settling to watch the others. Clothing, accents and skin colours were diverse reflecting the many nations present, though all spoke Koan, only slipping into their native tongue to pass an aside. The interplay between the Talents was entertaining, some quite open and friendly, some guarded, others caught up in games of one-up-man-ship. The members of The Amar Order were particularly interesting. They were as guarded with each other as they were with everyone else. The awkwardly polite way they treated each other, in front of this audience, made her wonder just how draining this place must be. The colour and lightness of their clothing contrasted so with their demeanour. Just then two figures caught her eye as they entered. The Chancellor and Mia Sara made no such pretence. They clearly didn’t like each other and no matter what, weren’t going to pretend otherwise.
Gwen and Carrick circulated around the room making use of the opportunity to catch up with old friends, pass on Durnin’s regards and further the influence of Naddier. They were both highly skilled at this and back in familiar territory after the challenges of the past year. The role of Talents had changed since The Great War, relying more on diplomacy than use of the field but current events were threatening to bring about change and those who were unable to reassert old skills faced an uncertain future.
“Ah, the famous, or should I say, infamous brother and sister.” Carrick and Gwen turned to face the heavy accent that addressed them. Drassique, The Head of the Akar Order was a large man, wide around his middle and wide in his opini
on of himself. He sported a large, curled moustache which perfectly matched his flamboyant appearance. His leadership of The Akar Order was considered unconventional but despite this he was generally respected if not always trusted.
“Drassique,” they greeted. “It has been a long time.”
The big man laughed. “Is there an echo in here?” he shook both of their hands his voice a rich drawl. “Yes, ten years and how they have flown,” his manner of speaking and the expressiveness of his face, hinted at an urge to appear on the stage.
“Really, that long,” Gwen added mischievously.
“Of course I have an excellent memory for dates and events. Particularly the more scandalous ones,” Drassique rumbled with a theatrical look over the top of his glasses.
“Oh now surely you can’t still hold that against us,” Gwen grinned.
“You were only too happy to have our help at the time,” Carrick added.
“Hmm. You still have it then, I assume,” Drassique noted with interest, twiddling a tip of his moustache.
“Wouldn’t be without it,” Gwen replied.
“Safe in your rooms perhaps?” Drassique made a pretence of looking for a member of his Order.
All three laughed. “Now, now Drassique let’s not make a scene like the last time,” Carrick waved a finger at the large man. “Finder and keeper.”